


Stay A Little While

by catwritesfic



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bottom Ethan Nestor, Crushes, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Homelessness, Hurt Ethan Nestor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Sad Ethan Nestor, Strangers to Lovers, This is going to be so soft, Top Mark Fischbach, Worry, ethan is grateful, mark is sweet, slowish burn, soft, unus annus is over and im trying to cope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwritesfic/pseuds/catwritesfic
Summary: Ethan Nestor moved to LA for his chance at success and happiness. Those dreams are dashed against a rock when the competition of the entertainment industry crashes down on him, and he finds himself on the streets not long after. Months later, though, his luck takes a turn when he meets none other than Mark Fischbach, his idol and inspiration for coming to California in the first place - and Mark's heard of the young YouTuber too, it turns out.
Relationships: Crankiplier, Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor, Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 123
Kudos: 347





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so... yeah this was gonna be a 1,000 word one-shot but now it's gonna be a chaptered fic because i became emotionally attached. enjoy~

It was a particularly cold winter night in Los Angeles - not cold enough to snow, not by a long shot, but the haze in the sky warned of rain. Ethan stood under the awning of a chain coffee shop, hands clutching a hot coffee close to his chest as if that heat alone was enough to keep out the chill. His hoodie was worn, fraying near the seams of his sleeves, insufficient in its own ability to keep him warm, and his jeans were much the same. The tennis shoes on his feet, tattered and on their last legs, were a gift from a passerby on their way to a donation drop off. they were a size too big, but Ethan cherished them. 

He had moved to LA 6 months ago, a few months after his 20th birthday. Like everyone else, he had big dreams of a career in the entertainment industry, planning to work as an editor or cameraman while he hunted for acting gigs and worked on his YouTube channel.

He hadn’t accounted for, well, much of anything. The demands of his chosen line of work, the competitive industry, the rent prices. In his defense, he didn’t have anyone in his life to tell him he was being too ambitious without a backup plan, but that defense didn’t help when his bills stacked up and the money wasn’t coming in. 

It had been 3 months since he’d been evicted from his tiny studio apartment. The cold season was settling in, and tonight it decided to bring rain with it. He took his first sip just as the misty rainfall began, shuddering against the humid sting of cold. 

He can deal with rain. He can deal with the cold. But he cannot deal with both at the same time. 

Ethan huffed a breath, contemplating where to go. The community shelters were full tonight. He had already tried. 

Nights like this he wished he had never come to LA. Felt like a fool. Felt naïve. Wanted to call his mom and beg to come home. Knew she wouldn’t let him. 

Not because he left, at least that wasn’t the only reason. Ethan had come out to his mother as bisexual in the same conversation that he announced he was pursuing an acting career in LA. Needless to say that heart to heart didn’t end well for the young man. 

“Hey!” 

Ethan’s head snapped up at the voice calling from somewhere in front of him. He saw a police officer in a patrol car, yelling out of his rolled down window. Ethan’s chest clenched with anxiety. 

“You can’t loiter here, shop’s closed. Get home.” 

Get home. 

Ethan would leave, find somewhere else to crash for the night, but he wouldn’t be getting home. He began waking down the sidewalk without so much as an acknowledgement to the cop. His body ached with the cold. 

He wandered for what felt like an hour but probably wasn’t. ‘Wander’ wasn’t the right word, maybe. He knew where he wanted to go and where he was, but there wouldn’t be anything for him when he arrived. At least not until the bakery opened at 6am and the owner came out to give the boy a 10 cent loaf of bread - well, the bread technically would be free, but Ethan insisted on paying at least something for it whenever he stopped by. 

It didn’t take long to arrive, and though he was saddled with a bone-deep ache that worsened when he plopped onto the ground, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have a meal in the morning, assuming he wasn’t run off by another police officer. 

Ethan didn’t much remember falling asleep, but after just a few minutes, he was lost to a light kind of slumber. 

\----------------------------------------------

“Hey, are you okay?” A voice asked from above Ethan. 

The boy looked up quickly to see a man, older than him for sure, standing in a warm-looking coat. He felt a flash of jealousy that was replaced with something else when he glanced at the man’s face and saw he was the most handsome person he’d ever seen, even in the hazy low light. He looked oddly familiar as well, though Ethan couldn’t quite place it. 

“I-I’m…fine,” he lied, his shivering no doubt giving him away. 

The man pursed his lips. 

“You look cold. Got a place to stay tonight?”

His voice was deep, gravelly. 

The young man but his lip, nervous to divulge any information to this stranger, no matter how handsome he may be. And he was. And just so familiar. 

“Um...no. Not really.” Ethan sniffled, the cold getting to him. 

The stranger smiled sympathetically and offered a hand out to Ethan as he said, “What’s your name?”

“Eth-Ethan,” the boy said, still unsure but willing to test his chances. He accepted the hand and his stomach dipped as he was pulled up easily. He knew he was light after his time on the streets, but the stranger lifted him like he was a bag of groceries. 

“Name’s Mark,” the stranger said as he shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ethan.”

“You too.” The younger man, and all at once he realized why this stranger looked familiar. This was Mark. Mark Fischbach. Wildly famous YouTuber and Ethan’s idol. He couldn’t believe he’d been so far out of it that he didn’t recognize his inspiration for moving out to LA all those months ago. He wanted it to be known that he knew the man from his online content, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. “You’re, um. You’re famous.”

Mark laughed, a low sound that Ethan had heard so many times, but never like this, in person, still holding onto Mark’s hand. At that thought, Ethan dropped his hand and tucked it back into his pocket. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” the older man said with a shrug, almost bashful. He gave Ethan a warm look. “I wanna help you, Ethan. Would you like to stay at mine for the night?” 

Ethan’s mouth went dry as the reality of the situation began to settle in on top of his near-hypothermic state. 

“Markiplier is asking me to stay at his house,” he said out loud, stupidly, and immediately went bright red and covered his face with his hand. “I-I didn’t...mean to say that out loud.”

But Mark just laughed again, not rude or mean-spirited. More embarrassed, if anything. Ethan wouldn’t have ever expected him to be mean. 

“Hey, I’m flattered,” he waved away Ethan’s humiliation. “But I’m not doing this as Markiplier, okay? Call me Mark, treat me the same way you’d treat any other guy trying to help.” 

Ethan laughed nervously. 

“Honestly if you weren’t so- uh, if you weren’t who you are, I probably wouldn’t have been so thrilled about some random guy asking me to spend the night.” He fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket, hesitant. 

Mark seemed to understand what he was implying, eyes widening as he shook his head. 

“Oh, no, no, no - I’m not trying to do anything here, I just-“

“No, I know, ah I’m fucking this up big time…” Ethan sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“You’re right though - that sounds...weird, I guess is the nicest word for it. I’m sorry, let’s…” Mark huffed a breath, more humor than exasperation. He nodded over his shoulder. “Let’s go inside, if that’s okay? I’m parked a block down, if you still wanna come over.”

“Y-yeah,” Ethan said immediately, then felt his cheeks heat up. But Mark just smiled, giving him a lightning quick once-over that Ethan half believed he’d imagined. 

They began walking side by side, Mark taking just a slight lead as he guided them to the parking garage. 

“How old are you, Ethan?” Mark asked to fill the silence, no doubt sensing the residual awkward tension. The younger man bit the inside of his cheek. He knew Mark’s age, knew he was several years his junior. He didn’t want to seem like some dumb kid who moved to LA to get famous and failed miserably, though…he supposed that’s exactly what he was. 

He decided to be honest. 

“Uh, 20…” 

Mark stopped for a moment, and Ethan nearly tripped so as to not run into his back. The older man was looking at him, a small frown on his face and tension between his brows. He continued after just a beat, trying to play off his reaction. 

“Damn. And how long have you been in L.A.?” 

“A few months,” Ethan mumbled, eyes downcast. He didn’t particularly feel like Mark was going to chastise him, or call him stupid, but he was doing that enough to himself that the shame swarmed him anyway. 

“Man,” Mark said quietly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys, and Ethan realized they were already at his car. He was shocked by his own lack of awareness, and the fact that he had gone into a dark parking garage with a stranger in the middle of the night. 

Even if that stranger was his internet crush. 

Idol. He meant idol. 

Mark unlocked the car - a shiny new-looking maybe-Tesla? - and when Ethan was hesitant to follow his lead and climb in, he smiled reassuringly. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You think I’m secretly some murderer or something?” He chuckled a bit, and Ethan couldn’t help but smile in return, comforted knowing Mark “Markiplier” Fischbach was a good person, had always been a good person for as long as Ethan had been a fan. 

Ethan entered the car, tried not to worry when the lock clicked on the door - it was automatic, he thought to himself. Fancy. He secured his seatbelt and gave Mark an expectant, soft look. It was returned, and then Mark was pulling out of the parking spot and heading home. 

Home. Ethan was going to be in Mark’s home, the one he’d seen in videos for years, the one he’d seen Mark’s friends hang out in, film in. The one Mark lived in. Wow. Last year, Ethan knew he’d have been bouncing off the walls of the car and talking Mark’s ear off. It’s weird what happens to people in circumstances like his. He doubted Mark would appreciate an overly eager fan in his car anyway, it was likely to make him uncomfortable and second-guess his decision. 

“What’s on your mind, Eth?” Mark asked, snapping Ethan out of his thoughts and making him realize he’d been zoning out 

“Oh, uh...just how...weird this is,” he laughed quietly, not looking over to the older man, instead deciding to look at his lap. “I mean, I’ve watched your videos for years...I follow you on Twitter. At least, I did, ya know, when my phone worked. You’re...god, this is embarrassing, but...you’re kinda the inspiration for me moving out to LA in the first place.”

Mark looked over to the young man in surprise, then his expression morphed into something more somber. He was quiet for a long while, apparently deep in thought. Ethan chewed at his lip. 

“I...have a confession,” Mark said, voice lower. “There’s another reason I asked you to come to my place.”

Ethan’s stomach dropped, anxiety suddenly spiking. He balled his hands into fists, covered by the sleeves of his jacket, and he tried not to show how his body tensed, ready to dive out of the car if needed. Extreme, maybe, but that’s just what a lack of security will do to you. His mind swirled with scenarios that could play out.

“I, uh, I’ve seen you. On YouTube.” Mark was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, looking tense. Ethan’s head snapped over to him, staring at the side of his face as the other man kept his eyes on the road. “I should have told you - I know this might make it even more weird, I’m sorry. You’re, um...CrankGamePlays, right?” 

Ethan’s entire face went red in mortification. Mark knew of him. Markiplier knew who he was, and the only reason they were meeting was because Mark pitied him for being homeless after trying to make it big in California. Now he wanted to eject himself from the car for a whole new reason. 

Mark risked a glance over at the younger man, his bottom lip between his teeth. Ethan looked almost...scared.

“I recognized you from one of your game-play videos - people kept sending me your stuff on Twitter. I saw your vlog about moving to LA, and then you stopped uploading. Um. People have been worried. I thought you should know that. I’m…” He huffed a breath. “I don’t want you to think this is, like, some weird...hero complex thing. It’s not - I just want to help.”

Ethan swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. He looked back down at his lap, taking his time to sort through his muddled thoughts before continuing. 

“I...I don’t really know what to even say. I should be thrilled that the Markiplier has seen my videos, knows who I am, but...I’m just embarrassed. I feel like an idiot. I wanted to be like you so bad when I was younger; I mean, I still kinda do, but...” He laughed to avoid a sob. “I really messed that up,” he finished in a whisper. 

“Hey,” Mark said, giving him a hard look. “You’re literally 20 years old, you have all the time in the world to mess up and get yourself back on your feet, okay? Don’t go thinking you’re some failure because you took a risk that didn’t pan out exactly as planned. There’s always time to do better.”

Ethan felt his bottom lip tug as he fought back tears. God. Hearing Mark be sappy and encouraging on screen was nothing compared to getting a pep talk while sitting in his car on the way to his house. His house. Ethan still couldn’t fully comprehend the current situation, and his emotional state wasn’t making things any easier. He bent forward slightly as he choked on a sob, his hand covering his face from Mark’s view. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he cried, muffled behind fabric. “I...I’m such an idiot - I tried so hard to make it work, and to just keep going, and I wasted my entire savings getting out here and I was so sure I could do it…”

“You still can,” Mark reassured, one hand leaving the steering wheel to rest on Ethan's leg. The younger man’s breath caught a bit, looking up to stare where they were making contact. “You’re not stupid, Ethan, you took a huge leap and that’s amazing. It’s okay, you’re gonna be fine. Let me help you, okay?” 

“How are you gonna help?” Ethan asked after a sniffle, voice watery with tears. Mark pursed his lips. 

“Haven’t figured that part out yet,” he admitted, however seemingly no less confident in his decision. Ethan was again surprised when they were pulling into a private driveway and Mark was putting the car in park. Time sure was an odd thing tonight. “But hey - we’re home. We can talk tomorrow, after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.” 

Ethan blinked, stuck on two simple but immeasurably impactful words. 

We’re home we’re home we’re home we’re home-

“Ethan? Hey, are you okay?” 

Ethan snapped back to present, looking at Mark to see the older man was looking at him with a worried expression, hand hovering between them, like he was going to reach out for the younger man. Only then did Ethan realize he was crying anew with fresh tears streaking hot down his cheeks, gathering under his chin. He wiped his eyes frantically, embarrassed all over again - or maybe that feeling had never faded in the first place. 

“Yeah, I just…” He huffed a shuddering breath, meeting Mark’s eyes shyly. “Haven’t been in a home in a long time, ya know? Just feel, um, overwhelmed? Kinda sick? I don’t know…” 

The older man smiled sympathetically. 

“I want you to feel at home here, Ethan,” he said simply. “And I don’t want you to feel like you shouldn’t be here - you’re a welcomed guest, got it?”

The younger man sniffled, nodding minutely even though he was having a hard time coming to terms with what Mark was saying. 

“Good - now let’s get you inside, yeah?” Mark smiled, more relaxed now, back to his typical charm that Ethan was so oddly accustomed to through years of exposure. 

It was so different, of course, and Ethan was being careful not to mix Mark’s YouTube persona with how he was in his personal life, but, well...That was hard when the smile was the same - wide and genuine and handsome. And he spoke softly when he was being serious, his low voice a soothing rumble in the young man’s chest. Sue him, he fell asleep with Markiplier videos on in the background more times than he could count - sometimes on purpose, sometimes because a couch was a good enough place to fall asleep as a bed. Neither of which he’d been able to sleep on for months. And there was that empty feeling again. 

Ethan nodded again as he followed Mark’s lead and exited the car, closing the door mindfully, as if he might damage it somehow. Walking behind Mark as the older man led the way up to the front door was surreal, as was Mark unlocking the door and beckoning the young man inside before following in after. Ethan looked around in a mix of awe and disbelief. It all looked just the same as it did in videos. He could easily picture Mark recording a ridiculous video, walking around and filming while he goofed off in front of a camera. But he could also just as easily imagine Mark enjoying an evening on the couch, Chica asleep in her bed by the TV. Speaking of which…

“Where’s Chica?” Ethan asked excitedly before he could stop himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he clenched his jaw and cursed himself for being weird. “Ah - I’m sorry, that’s...ugh…”

But Mark was simply chuckling, toeing off his sneakers by the front door. 

“No worries, everyone loves the good girl. She’s in my room, she had a, uh...an incident involving a couch cushion last night so I had her stay in my room while I was out today.” 

Ethan, for the first time that night, laughed genuinely, eyes brightening. 

“Aw, oh Chica,” he said, sympathy for the dog owner clear in his voice. 

Mark scrunched his face.

“Yeah, but you can meet her in the morning!” he assured. Ethan smiled at the man, his earlier nerves almost gone as he stood in Mark’s entryway. Mostly what remained was the anxiety that came with not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of his cru- idol. His idol. Yeah. “And feel free to leave your shoes by the door, too.”

Ethan did just that, then followed Mark into the main room, where the man set down his bag and emptied his pockets onto the kitchen counter. Mark yawned, stretching his arms as he did. 

“M’kay,” he began, shoulders slumping a bit as he wound down from the day. “I can only assume you want a shower and then to sleep for a long ass time, so let me skip straight to showing you the guest room and give you a tour in the morning. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Ethan said shyly. The sound of a long, hot shower gave him goosebumps, and the opportunity to sleep in an actual bed again was going to make him cry if he focused on that feeling too much. He followed Mark upstairs, a warmth settling over him as the cold from outside eked away, replaced with the cozy safety and comfort of a home, even if it was temporary. 

He couldn’t know for sure what this would all bring - where he’d end up at the end of this experience - but right now, just for a moment, he was going to let himself hope for that better tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan thinks this is all a bit surreal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter, but the next one is a lot more juicy~ i absolutely adore their interactions and im typically a very dialogue-heavy writer, so expect a lot more of that!

The water was hot, almost painfully so, and the pressure was better than Ethan had ever felt in his life. He had a private bathroom in the guest room Mark had shown him - he brought clean sheets from a linen closet, a spare toothbrush, toiletries he’d be needing. Ethan shouldn’t have been surprised that Mark had all of those things on hand; after all, he was more than wealthy enough for it, and had plenty of people over at his house every so often. At least, from what the young man had seen in videos. He knew those comparisons weren’t helpful, maybe not healthy, even, but he couldn’t seem to stop those thoughts as they came. 

Ethan sighed blissfully under the spray of the shower head. He’d already washed himself thoroughly - his hair, his face, every inch of his body - and now he was just standing and letting the hot water wash over him as he breathed in the steam. 

There were fresh clothes waiting for him on the guest room bed. Mark’s clothes, Ethan’s brain decided to remind him. A pair of flannel sweatpants, a grey t-shirt. A pair of black boxer shorts. The young man’s heart skipped in his chest at the thought, and he knew that was dumb. Knew that Mark was just helping the kid on the streets that saw him as a hero. Knew he would never see him as anything except some young and dumb 20 year old with his head screwed on wrong enough that he thought he’d be able to make it big.

Ethan thought back to Mark’s earlier words - when he’d mentioned that people were worried about him, had noticed his absence. He had a couple hundred thousand subscribers, sure, but he hadn’t expected his absence to be so noticeable that Markiplier himself had heard of it. For just a moment, he wondered what could have been if he’d met Mark as soon as he'd moved out to LA. Would anything have been any different? He supposed it didn’t help to dwell on. 

He turned off the shower and shook off some of the water before pulling back the curtain. Goosebumps ran across his body as the chill of the room seeped into the shower, and he was quick to grab at the towel hanging on a hook within reach. It was stark white, plush, and soft enough to almost make his skin ache. He shoved his face into it first, inhaling deeply, then ran it over his hair and finally wrapped it around himself completely. He opened the bathroom door into the bedroom and his gaze fell on the pile of clothes folded neatly for him on top of the duvet. Something in him thrummed with a kind of relief and peace he hadn’t felt in, god, years. Years. 

Mark had handed him the clothes awkwardly earlier, after he’d shown Ethan to his room for the night. He looked almost bashful to be letting the younger man borrow the sleep clothes, and Ethan could certainly understand. He felt odd accepting them as well. But Mark had made a quick joke about how clothes would probably slide right off of Ethan’s small frame, and they were laughing easily enough again. And that was nice - better than anything Ethan’s had in so long. 

The young man sighed, something he seemed to do a lot lately. After he finished drying himself off, he brushed off the lingering awkwardness he felt and tugged on the boxers, unsurprised by their softness. He smiled slightly, before he felt self-conscious, even as he stood alone in the room. That was weird. He was going to make this all weird, and Mark was going to be uncomfortable if he saw him being weird. Stop being weird.

He ignored the heat rising in his cheeks and finished dressing. He sat down on the bed, marveling at the plushness, and looked over to the nightstand just within reach. Mark had let him borrow a charging cable for his phone, and he dreaded seeing whether or not the old thing still turned on at all. He chewed at the inside of his cheek. 

It could wait until tomorrow morning, he decided. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep now. 

Ethan had already said good night to the older man, who had retired to his own bedroom down the hall, so he felt content as he went to switch off the lights, climbed under the duvet, and let himself drift to sleep comfortably for the first time since he’d been kicked out.

\---------------

Mark was awake. In bed, sure, but awake. On his phone, scrolling through the twitter profile of a certain young YouTuber. 

Ethan was sweet. He really was, and Mark’s heart ached for what he’d been going through since moving out to LA - more so at the fact that he knew the young man moved out here because he wanted to live out his dream of being like Mark. Successful YouTuber with fans and support, and the ability to do as he pleased with his time. The older man knew it wasn’t his fault that Ethan left home and made that leap, wasn’t his fault that it didn’t pan out, but still he felt almost guilty. Maybe it wasn’t guilt; maybe it was something else. Sympathy. Pity? No, not pity. Mark knew at least a little bit what Ethan was experiencing, though not to the same extent. Things just don’t work sometimes…

Ethan’s twitter timeline was a trip, to say the least. Between selfies and nonsensical tweets about whatever he was eating, or thinking, or doing at any particular moment, there were times when his tweets were somber. Sad. He was often hard on himself, making jokes at his own expense, and calling himself names. He was always so sweet to the people that interacted with him, though. Unless it was a friendly jab here and there, but it was always mutual if that was the case. Ethan handed out compliments and gratitude with ease. The past few months of radio silence from the young creator had left many confused and concerned, and Mark ended up being one of them. 

There was speculation that he’d died, that he’d hurt himself, that he’d been kidnapped. Mark kept up with the conspiracies as often as he could stomach, but that was hard - he knew any number of terrible circumstances could have befallen the young man, who’d only just began his new adventures. The big city could have snuffed him out in too many ways to count. 

It didn’t do well for anyone to stay awake thinking about it, least of all Mark. He’d be able to talk with Ethan in the morning, knowing the young man was safe and sound in his own guest bedroom. Or, perhaps, they’d talk in the afternoon, depending on how late Ethan decided to sleep in. Mark wasn’t going to go waking him when there was really no need to. He should be allowed to sleep. 

So should Mark, the older man supposed. With that thought, he sighed and turned off his phone, placing it on his nightstand. He rolled over to sleep on his side facing away from the bedroom door. It didn’t take long for his exhaustion to catch up to him. 

\---------------------------

Ethan awoke from a sleep so deep, he had actually been able to dream for once. Funnily enough, Markiplier was in his dream, and he’d let Ethan stay the night in his own home. Let Ethan sleep in his clothes. Groggily, the young man almost wanted to laugh at himself - his infatuation with the man was popping up even in dreams. He shifted, pulling his jacket further over himself, warmth seeping into him. 

The young man’s brows furrowed, confusion etched in his features. That wasn’t his jacket. He blearily opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the light spilling in from the open curtains across the room. And this wasn’t the outside of the bakery. Ethan shot upwards in the bed with a start, eyes wide in his shock and bewilderment - what? What? His eyes scanned the room, his breathing heavy and the duvet clutched in his hands. 

Okay. Okay okay okay okay. Not a dream, huh? Not a dream - Mark had been there, had invited him home, had let him sleep in his clothes, had promised to introduce him to Chica in the morning. Okay. The young man’s breathing slowed, but the disbelief persisted. He pushed the blanket off of himself, swung his legs over the side of the mattress, and pushed himself to his feet. The clock on the nightstand read ‘11:23 am’ and Ethan let out a slight laugh of astonishment. When was the last time he’d been able to sleep through the entire night, let alone well into the morning? 

His gaze fell to his cellphone, sitting there on the charger still. His gut clenched, anxiety stirring. Not yet. No, that could wait until later. He’d waited this long to check his social media, what was a few more hours? The young man looked towards the door. Now, that was the real challenge. Would Mark be waiting for him? Was he still in his room? Ethan swallowed hard at the thought of just seeing the older man; an odd nervousness, considering he had slept in the man’s home and was currently dressed entirely in his clothes. The sweatpants hung a bit loose on his hips. The shirt was clearly at least one size too large on the younger man. 

Ethan pushed the thought away before he could let himself get wrapped up in it. He made his way across the room and hesitantly pushed open the door, peeking around the entryway as if he weren’t supposed to be there. His eyes locked onto a piece of paper taped to the wall opposite the open bedroom door he was lingering at. Ethan stepped closer to read the note, his stomach flipping. 

‘I have to record for a few hours, but make yourself at home. There’s food in the fridge, help yourself to anything you find in there. If you need me, you can knock on the recording room door, but I should be done by 1

Mark :) ‘

The smiley face was a very cute touch, Ethan couldn’t help but think, then immediately reprimanded himself mentally for. He almost wanted to go knocking just to let the man know he was still there, but that was silly, and pointless. It was already around 11:30, the young man could wait for Mark to finish working. Besides, he was hungry, and the thought of a fridge full of food had him practically drooling. He didn’t get his morning bread, and it was almost afternoon now. His stomach growled at him as if to exaggerate his point.

Mind made up easily, Ethan made his way down the set of stairs just down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! also do you guys think a more drawn out slow burn is a good idea? i had planned for this to be just a couple chapters, but im thinking maybe drawing it out for longer and getting into their budding friendship and the development of ~feelings~ would be nice <3 i wanna hear y'all's thoughts though!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan and Mark have lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter?? hell yeah mannn

Ethan had scavenged in the kitchen and was delighted to see an assortment of snack foods in the pantry, and fresh fruits and vegetables in the fridge. He didn’t want to be greedy, so he put a small amount of strawberries, carrots, and a rolled up slice of deli turkey on a plate and picked out a bag of chips to have a handful of. He brought it to the living room couch and tucked in happily, sighing as he ate his makeshift charcuterie board. 

That had been an hour ago, and now Ethan was just sitting on the couch, waiting for Mark to emerge from his recording room. He felt anxious. Almost dizzy with it, and he could no longer blame that dizziness on hunger, as he sat with his comfortably full tummy. The plate was already washed clean again, his trash discarded, and now Ethan felt a flutter in his chest as he waited for Mark to finish working. 

\----------------

Mark was wrapping up a recording, a play-through of a new horror game he kept seeing be recommended, and his thoughts were on the young man in his home. He’d felt a bit hesitant to leave Ethan alone while he recorded, but he knew well enough that the younger wouldn’t do anything foolish, not when he was in Mark’s home. The older man had the impression that Ethan had a healthy respect for him. That thought brought on mixed emotions - he was proud to be someone others looked up to, but he also worried that the power dynamic he had with Ethan wasn’t conducive to a normal friendship. 

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself though. He hardly knew anything about the young man. 

Mark shook his head and powered off his computer after triple checking he’d saved all of the files he needed, and then he was making his way out of the recording room and down the hall. The door to Ethan’s room - er, Mark’s guest room - was ajar, so Mark assumed the young man was downstairs. That was a good sign, he thought. He made his way down and immediately he could see Ethan on the couch, hands folded in his lap and seemingly zoned out, staring forward. 

“Hey,” Mark greeted with a smile as he entered the room, leaning his hip against the wall. 

Ethan snapped his head up and over the where Mark stood leaned against the wall, eyes widening a bit before he relaxed again. 

“Hi, uh, hi,” he said falteringly. “Um. Good morning? No, it’s not morning…” He closed his eyes against his own blabbering, fiddling with his fingers. 

Mark laughed softly. 

“Hasn’t been for a bit, but I’ll take it anyway,” he said good-naturedly. “How long have you been up?” 

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek. 

“Since, like, 11:30? Not for long, honestly…” He giggled nervously, bashful about how late he had slept in, especially considering Mark had already almost finished working by the time he was only just waking up. 

“No worries, man - you deserve a good long sleep, ya know?” Mark smiled as he dipped around into the kitchen. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Uh...yeah, I had a snack,” Ethan said, his eyes following the older man. 

Mark raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you still hungry?” He asked with a look that suggested he already knew the answer, so Ethan answered honestly. 

“Y-yeah, I could still eat.”

Mark smiled, seeming pleased. 

“I was gonna make a sandwich - want one?” He asked as he gathered ingredients from the fridge and set them up on the counter. 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that, I can make something for myself…” At Mark’s pursed lips and unimpressed look, Ethan shut up, swallowing.

“I’m already making one for myself,” Mark reminded him. “Just let me feel like a good host, will ya?” 

His tone was playful, teasing, almost, and Ethan’s protests died before they could make it out of his mouth. 

“Okay…” he gave in, looking at Mark bashfully. His cheeks felt warm. “Thanks, Mark.” 

The smile on Mark’s face was proud, like he’d won something from being able to make food for his guest. He got to work assembling lunch for the two of them, and Ethan picked at his nails. 

“Did you sleep okay?” Mark called casually, not wanting Ethan to feel awkward. 

Ethan laughed easily, as if the question in itself was a joke. 

“Better than I have since I moved here,” he answered truthfully. He pursed his lips, humming thoughtfully. “And probably even before that, too.”

Mark wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His easy-going expression morphed into something a little more subdued. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” he said. He was nearly finished making lunch, and he was ready to sit down with the young man and talk. 

Ethan stared over at the older man from his place on the couch, just watching him as he worked. When Mark’s gaze met the younger man’s, Ethan tensed and looked away quickly, which may just have been worse than simply holding eye contact. 

“Whatcha starin’ at me for?” Mark questioned with a small laugh. Then, with a raised eyebrow and comical smolder, he joked, “I mean, I know I’m the most handsome man in the world, but please.”

“Sorry,” Ethan apologized with a giggle, his cheeks heating up. “I just, ya know, zone out sometimes...ADHD and all that.” 

Mark hummed in acknowledgement, laying a slice of bread on top of the now finished sandwich. He smiled at his handiwork. 

“Have you been able to get your meds still?” Mark asked without thinking, picking up the two plates and bringing them over to the couch.

“Uh, how did you know I was taking medication?” Ethan’s face betrayed his confusion and slight hesitancy, accepting one of the plates from Mark. 

The older man’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, uh- I’ve...been on your twitter a couple times,” he admitted, avoiding Ethan’s eyes as he sat on the couch next to the younger man. “I saw you mention it a few times, from, ya know, before…” 

Ethan accepted that answer easily enough, looking a bit embarrassed now. 

“Oh - yeah, that…” he cleared his throat, shaking away whatever he was about to say. “I had a 3 month prescription I was able to fill before getting evicted, but that ran out a little while...maybe, like, 2 weeks? 3? I don’t know- it’s...hard to keep track of time for me.”

Mark made a small sound again, clearly thinking. Ethan cleared his throat. 

“Thanks, by the way. For lunch, and for...I don’t know, everything? How do I even begin to thank you?” Neither of them had started eating, and Ethan was awash with a feeling unlike any he’d had before. Gratitude. Affection. Fondness. Under that, though, there was this knot of anxiety, knowing he couldn’t think of a way he could possibly return the amount of kindness Mark had shown him already, and continues to show him. 

Mark seemed to be able to sense his unease. 

“You can thank me by eating the sandwich I just slaved over in the kitchen,” he joked, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. When Ethan relaxed, his smile sweet and genuine, Mark continued. “Seriously, though, I don’t expect you to, like, repay me or something, okay? I want to do this.”

Ethan’s smile stayed, though it was a bit tighter. He looked down at his sandwich, and decided to leave the conversation at that, at least until they’d finished lunch. They began eating in silence, but instead of feeling awkward, it was comfortable, now. Amicable. When they’re finished, Ethan insisted on pulling his weight by washing the plates. 

“No way - I’m not letting my guest wash dishes,” Mark protested, holding an expectant hand out to the younger man, who stubbornly clutched his own dish close to his chest. 

“You made lunch, let me wash up!” Ethan countered, holding his plating an arm’s length away from the other man as he tried to grab for Mark’s plate now. “It’s only polite, Mark.” 

Mark squinted at him, realizing this could go on for longer than he was prepared to deal with. 

“I’ll wash, you dry,” Mark declared, not about to take no for an answer. 

They held eye contact for a few moments, both with mock-serious expressions. Ethan was first to crack, a snorting laugh escaping him as he lowered his arm. 

“Okay, that sounds fair,” he agreed. Mark smiled and Ethan followed him back into the kitchen. Mark made a show of meticulously scrubbing each plate, and Ethan laughed, playing along and drying the plates thoroughly before inspecting them with dramatic flair. He put them back in the cupboard, and when he turned back, Mark was smiling at him fondly, but he looked away and dried his hands on a dish towel. The smile remained. Ethan had to look away, too, when his heart fluttered in his chest.

‘Not not, Ethan, not now. You can’t do this to yourself. Not when you’re literally in his house, not when he just made you lunch, not when he’s letting you stay here so kindly, are you really going to mess that up by having feelings for him? An internet crush was one thing, but you can’t let that carry over while you’re standing right in front of him and he’s looking at you all soft and…’

“So!” Mark startled Ethan from his thoughts, clapping his hands together. “I think it’s time we, ya know, talk about what the hell we’re gonna do with ya.”

Ethan knew the older man was only being teasing, but the words made him nervous. Nevertheless, he nodded, and followed Mark to the dining room table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos, you guys have been so sweet and wonderful!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one took a little while, i've been busy <3

“Okay,” Mark said, and his posture left Ethan feeling like he was in a job interview, which brought on a whole new level of unease. “So, I was thinking about, ya know, your situation, and I definitely wanna ask about it and understand better, but I get it if that’s something that’s just too personal.” 

They were sat across from each other at Mark’s dining table. Ethan’s leg bounced under the table, his outlet for some of the anxious energy that had built up. He didn’t have anything to fiddle with, to distract himself with, so he instead decided to pick at his fingernails. 

“But I do wanna know some, like, basic stuff,” Mark continued, and Ethan wondered how it was so easy for him to hold eye contact for so long. “To get an idea, ya know?”

“Yeah,” Ethan agreed, shifting in his seat. 

“So, I know you mentioned you’ve been, um, that it’s been a few months since you lost your apartment, right?” Mark asked haltingly, choosing his words carefully. 

“Mhm,” Ethan hummed. He looked uncomfortable, and Mark internally cringed at himself. “3 months, give it take. I was able to stay at a few different shelters, but it’s not always possible.”

Mark nodded, clearly thinking. 

“And you obviously haven’t been able to, like, record for your channel or anything,” he said, but it wasn't a question. He was pensive, almost distracted. Ethan nodded, even though Mark wasn’t looking at him anymore. Suddenly, he looked up, a light to his face like he’d just recalled something. “Does your phone still work? Were you able to charge it?”

Ethan looked away, uncomfortable. 

“I...I forgot to check it this morning,” he lied, picking at his nails. “I’ll do it later.”

Mark tilted his head at the shift in tone, but he didn’t question it. 

“Okay…” he drew out. “Well, if your phone doesn’t work, I have a laptop you can borrow so you can make a post and let everyone know you’re still alive. I know they’re worried.” 

Ethan didn’t need to be reminded again. He knew. He knew people were worried. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t have anyone offer a place for you to stay for a little while,” Mark continued. “I mean, I can’t believe your friends would let you rough it. I wouldn’t have done that.” The way his tone became a bit harsher, eyebrows pulled together as if it was a puzzle that needed solving - as if there were no other options in his mind but to help a friend - it all made Ethan’s heart clench. He wished he’d known Mark from the beginning. 

“Honestly…nobody really…knew…” Ethan began, and Mark looked at him with a bit of surprise. “I mean, like, I didn’t even have friends here yet, ya know? And nobody back home…nobody knows what happened.”

The older man’s expression turned sad. 

“Oh…” he said quietly, then leaned a bit over the table to speak in a lower voice. “I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone, Eth. If I’d known… well, I’d have done what I’m doing now.” 

The younger man’s throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging. He felt the urge to reach out and hold the man’s hand. He didn’t, of course. Wouldn’t. His bottom lip trembled. 

“Hey…” Mark’s voice was impossibly soft, gentle. 

Ethan groaned and wiped at his eyes, embarrassed. He jumped a bit when there was the sound of a chair scraping across the floor and then a presence by his side. When Ethan brought his hands away from his face, Mark was there, close enough that the warmth of the older man radiated into Ethan. 

“I’m sorry,” Ethan groaned in agitation toward himself. “It’s so dumb to cry right now.”

“No,” Mark countered, placing a hand on Ethan’s back. “It’s okay to cry - it’s always okay to cry. Just feel what you need to feel and we’ll talk about it whenever you’re comfortable. Okay?”

“I can talk about it,” Ethan assured hurriedly, clenching his fists in his lap. He loved the feeling of Mark’s hand, warm and soft on his upper back, a support beam for his shaky foundation. “I can. And I’m really thankful that you’re here, that I’m here, that you… let me come home with you for the night.”

The implications of that phrasing were not lost on Ethan, and the young man blushed. 

“I-I mean…that you let me stay here, ya know? I’m really grateful.” The hand on his back moved up and down, a warm weight against him that made him shiver. He needed to stop being weird. “And I know I just said that, it’s just…I feel like no matter how many times I say it, it won’t be enough.”

Mark huffed a small laugh. 

“Ethan…” he said in that low timbre of his, seating himself more comfortably next to the young man. Ethan’s stomach clenched in anticipation, expecting to be made fun of. “I’ve been really awkward, so I just want to come out and propose something before I lose the nerve.”

Ethan swallowed, eyes wide as he struggled to look at the other man. Mark leaned in as if they were sharing a secret. 

“I wanted to ask you to stay here, for as long as you’d like. Get back on your feet, use my studio for recording if you wanted to get back into it, whatever. Just. You can stay. I want you to stay.” 

That wasn’t what Ethan was expecting to hear, but it was even better than he could have thought. Mark was a good friend. Mark was an amazing friend, a better friend than Ethan thought he could have ever deserved. He envied whoever got the chance to date the man. 

“Do…you really mean that?” Ethan asked in awe, and when their eyes finally met again, the young man could almost pretend for a moment that he saw budding affection behind Mark’s eyes. Of course, it was just concern for his new friend. That’s all. 

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” Mark said easily, a slight teasing tone to his voice. 

Ethan smiled wide, his admiration for the man shining through. Soon, though, the smile fell as anxiety took hold. 

“What if it takes me a long time to...I don’t know, get back on my feet? Like, how long is too long?” Ethan bit the inside of his cheek, chewing the skin. 

“I’m not in any rush to kick you out, dude,” Mark assured, a playful smile on his lips. “If it takes time, it takes time. That’s just how things go, right?” 

A small smile lit up Ethan’s face again, even through the fresh tears that fell. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, then sniffled and wiped at his eyes again. The relief crashed into him and brought his worries down to a low hum instead of the screaming fear it had been previously. It made him almost dizzy, and relaxed into a near sedated state. 

Mark smiled at him, but Ethan wasn’t looking at him now, instead looking down into his lap where his fingers played with the hem of his sweatpants. 

“I think you deserve a break - really, I mean, I know how hard you’ve worked, and I can’t imagine how hard it was when you lost your home. I can’t…” 

Mark shook his head, and Ethan looked at him again. 

“I miss recording,” he said suddenly. “I miss making videos, and editing, and...God, I just miss it all so fucking much. It feels dumb to say, but, I think that's, like, the thing I hated most about it all. I couldn’t do the one thing I wanted to when I moved out here.” 

“You’ve been so strong, Ethan. Okay?” Ethan’s wide, sad eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to the older man. “Don’t you ever think you failed or didn’t do enough. Hard work and drive aren’t always enough, it takes luck, too, and you can’t control your luck, right?” 

Mark waited for the younger man to nod his agreement, and with that, Mark stood, startling Ethan with the sudden movement. He motioned for Ethan to get up, too, and follow him out of the dining room. 

“So, I’m gonna give you some of my luck,” Mark continued, leading the younger man up the flight of stairs. “It’s the least I can do with it.” 

The young man wasn’t even sure what to say to that, his eyes lighting up with the kind of hero-worship awe he previously thought he’d dropped. He should have known it would creep back up, especially now that he was inside Mark’s house. 

Ethan was silent as they entered Mark’s recording studio, and he wanted to say he was surprised by the set-up, but really, he’d seen it on camera for years. Has seen it evolve and change right alongside Mark himself. Was that a weird thing to notice? He wasn’t analyzing that, but he knew the answer. The lighting was dim, and Mark made no move to flick on the overhead lights, instead opting for the ambient lighting he usually had on in videos. 

“I’ll set something up for you in here - something that’s just yours.” As he spoke, Mark leaned against his desk and watched Ethan as the younger man’s eyes trailed over the room, awestruck and almost giddy. “Or if you’d rather, we can make space in your room for your own little studio.” 

Ethan looked at the older man. 

“Whatever’s easiest, I don’t…” he huffed in disbelief. “I’m fine with anything - everything. I...God, I don’t even know what to say…” 

Mark just smiled warmly, as if just the knowledge that Ethan was happy was enough for him. 

“Well, then let’s plan for you to set up in here. I have spare equipment in the guest closet - wanna take a look?” 

Ethan was nodding before Mark could even finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! you guys are amazing and i love you all <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait, and thank you for all the wonderful comments <3

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They left the guest room, Ethan on Mark’s heels and more giddy than he could ever remember feeling. As they walked down the hallway, the younger man heard a thumping sound from Mark’s room on the opposite end of the hallway. They both turned in tandem, Ethan confused and Mark with a grin, and then the older man was walking towards his own room. 

“Oh, how could I forget,” he said with a small chuckle. “You were still asleep when she went on her morning walk.”

Ethan’s confusion melted away into a wide smile as the door opened and a big ball of yellowy blond fur bounded out, her excitement at meeting their new guest causing her entire body to wag along with her tail. She ignored her owner in favor of rushing over to Ethan to greet him, the man crouching down with his arms wide to let himself be engulfed by her. 

“Chica!” He exclaimed, laughing as she sniffed and licked at his face. He ruffled her fur, petting and mussing the fluffy dog while she panted happily. 

“I see how it is,” Mark pouted from the doorway, crossing his arms with a dramatic look of angry betrayal. Ethan looked up at him with a wide smile, delighted, and laughed at the other man’s pretend jealousy. 

“Hey! She’s happy to meet me,” Ethan giggled. “Let me have this.”

Mark looked away and pursed his lips, struggling to keep his smile from showing. The younger man raised an eyebrow with a small smile. 

“You... could join us,” Ethan suggested, scritching Chica behind her ears while she sat nearly in his lap. “Ya know, instead of being a big baby.”

Mark broke and chuckled, dropping his arms and walking over without a word. He sat down dramatically and cooed at his dog as she waddled her way over to him for more attention. 

“Who’s a good Chica Peeka?” He said fondly while doling out scritches and pats. 

Ethan gazed at him with a soft smile, folding his arms over his knees to sit more comfortably as he watched the two. Mark felt eyes on him and looked up, his playful smile turning warm as they met eyes. Ethan felt his cheeks heat up.

“I’m glad she likes you,” Mark said, his voice lower than before, as if he were sharing a secret. He chuckled softly. “I think we’d have problems if Chica didn’t like you.”

Ethan huffed a laugh, reaching out again to pet her. 

“I’d seriously reevaluate my entire life if she didn't like me.” 

They shared in the amusement together and after a few minutes of giving Chica attention, Mark stood, offering his hand out to Ethan and pulling him up as well. Ethan tried to ignore the rush in his chest at the ease with which Mark was able to lift his weight up with one arm. Not that Ethan weighed much, but, well....it was hot, what else can he say? 

“Alright,” Mark began lightly, “we could be here with Chica all day, but, personally, I think we should go check out that equipment I was telling you about.”

As he spoke, he led Ethan back down the hall where they’d originally been heading. 

“Oh - right.” Ethan laughed shyly as he followed the other man. 

\---------

Mark set Ethan up with a camera, a ring light he didn’t use anymore, 2 monitors for gaming and recording, and every other piece of equipment he had in storage that he thought Ethan would be able to use. Together, they made a recording station in Mark’s work room, and after a couple hours of moving things around and organizing wires and setting up Ethan’s accounts, Mark smiled proudly at their handiwork. 

He returned to work, editing and planning future videos, while Ethan fiddled around with his new set up, in awe at the quality of everything Mark had given him. Time passed in comfortable silence, save for the few times Ethan had a question about his new computer or a specific software, and it wasn’t long before an ache in the young man’s stomach alerted him that he was getting hungry. He wanted to ask Mark if he was allowed to go get himself a snack, but that was silly, wasn’t it? If he was going to be staying here, it seemed likely that Mark wouldn’t have objections to him eating - in fact, he encouraged that this morning. Still, even as the logical side of Ethan’s brain explained that to him, his anxiety gnawed his insides. 

Mark was already giving him so much. This whole set up, the expensive equipment, a room in his own home, the food in his fridge, his patient companionship. 

Ethan didn’t feel worthy of it all, and the panic crept back up his chest and into his throat. 

“Ethan?”

The younger man blinked, realizing he had been staring, unmoving, for more than a couple minutes by then. He shook his head and looked up at Mark, who was turned in his computer chair and looking at him with a face full of concern. Ethan hated that he made Mark so worried all the time. 

“Sorry, I just- I don’t know, I was zoning out.” Ethan took a deep breath, hoping Mark wouldn’t probe further. At the tilt of the older man’s head, Ethan knew he was about to be questioned. 

“You were breathing kinda hard - are you okay?” Mark rolled his chair over until he was close enough to spin Ethan’s chair around to face him. Their faces were easily two feet away, at least, but Ethan’s stomach dove as their knees bumped together from the motion. He kept his hands together in his lap. “Eth?”

“I just…” Ethan bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s all the same stuff I said before. I know you said it’s okay that I’m here, and that you’re happy to help, but...I don’t know. I feel like I should be...doing something for you in return?” 

Ethan’s blue eyes flicked up to meet Mark’s, and the older man licked his lips as he took in the pretty sight before him. Ethan looked good. Ethan was good-looking. Mark swallowed.

“You, um...something like what?” Mark asked, body leaning toward Ethan barely an inch, the hand still on the armrest of Ethan’s chair tightened as he fought the impulse to rest it on the other man’s knee, or thigh, or arm. Ethan’s eyes widened a bit, and Mark was worried he’d spooked the young man. He shook himself out of whatever haze had fallen over him and removed his hand, giving Ethan space as he leaned back in his chair again. 

“I don’t know…” Ethan said, almost in a whisper. Mark’s body language was giving him odd signals that he wasn’t entirely sure how he was meant to interpret. Was Mark implying something more...scandalous? Mark wouldn’t do that, surely… Ethan watched the way Mark’s eyes flited across his face, down to his neck, which was pulsing with his suddenly hammering heartbeat. “Wha-what-” Ethan cleared his throat, the sound loud in the quiet of the room. “What do you, um, want me to do?” 

Mark stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, just slightly. 

“You-” he huffed, shoulders tight as he pushed himself further away in his chair. His voice was impossibly deep, a rough rumble that Ethan was entranced by. “You don’t have to do anything, Ethan. Like I said - I’m more than happy to help you.”

As Mark pulled back, the trance fell away and Ethan’s breath evened out as he forced himself to calm down. His heart wasn’t beating so rapidly because of his anxiety. 

“Are you sure?” Ethan asked, wanting that haze, that stupor, to come back, engulf him, make him do something stupid. 

Mark smiled at him, tighter than his typical wide grin, and nodded. 

“Yeah, just, ya know, treat my home like your home,” he said, then stood. Then, with a tap on Ethan’s knee, he said, “How ‘bout we figure out dinner?” 

Ethan was relieved and disappointed all at once.   
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i love you all!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this chapter on my phone so please forgive any fuckery 😬 also do we have ourselves some angst 👀

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That night, Mark sat in his bedroom, on the edge of his bed, with the memory of Ethan’s wide, pleading eyes looking up at him. He wasn’t sure why that was the moment it really hit him how much he cared for the younger man, but he felt ashamed of himself. Not for being drawn to Ethan, but for making him uncomfortable earlier. The way Ethan looked at him, as if he were scared, or worried about what Mark would do- 

A hole opened in Mark’s chest at the thought that Ethan might have gotten the impression that Mark would ever take advantage of him, or break the trust he’d placed in the man. He had an undeniable attraction to Ethan, charmed by him more than he could put into words. He wanted to be closer to Ethan, wanted to be good friends with him. He didn’t want to mess anything up - refused to let that happen, especially if that meant hurting Ethan in any way. 

They’d had dinner together, just something easy that Mark threw together last minute, and the atmosphere around them had been different. Strained, in a way it hadn’t been even when Ethan first arrived. After small conversation, Ethan had retired to his room for the night. The sky had only just begun to darken; it was only just after 6:30pm. 

Mark mulled over Ethan’s behavior since the awkward conversation in the recording room; he was tense, stiff, struggled to meet Mark’s eyes. Mark tried his best to act as his normal self, but he knew that he was acting off as well. 

Here, in the quiet of his bedroom, he was able to analyze where he had gone wrong. He shouldn’t have leaned in closer, he shouldn’t have asked what Ethan wanted to do for him, he should have just assured Ethan that there were no expectations, no pressure to return Mark’s kindness, he was just happy to have Ethan here, near him, with him…

Mark shook his head, trying to shake away those thoughts. He couldn’t do this to Ethan. He needed to stop, he needed to calm down, pull back. He flopped backwards onto his bed and groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

“God, what’s wrong with me,” he sighed, easing the pressure on his eyes once he started seeing splotches of color on the insides of his eyelids. He stared at the ceiling, letting his arms fall spread out beside him. 

Just then, Mark heard a small noise from somewhere outside his bedroom. Something like a sniffle. Mark shot upwards, propping himself up on his hands as he strained to listen closer. Another snuffle, followed by a hiccuping whimper. 

The older man was up and rushing out of his room without a second thought. He ran down the hall, just barely restraining himself from bursting into the guest room - Ethan’s room. 

“Ethan?” Mark knocked on the door, and he heard a quiet gasp from inside. “Ethan, can I come in?” 

There was silence for a few painfully long moments, and Mark very nearly let himself in, but then he heard the gentle footfalls of Ethan’s socked feet padding across the room towards the door. When the door creaked open, just enough to reveal Ethan’s tear-streaked and flushed face, Mark’s expression crumbled from worry to absolute devastation. 

This was his fault. He knew it. This was Mark’s fault for being so...so…

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked in a low, breathy voice. 

Ethan sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of one of Mark’s hoodies that he had found in the closet earlier and had asked Mark so sweetly if he could wear it. Mark hadn’t even needed to think for a moment before he said yes. The younger man held the door open wider for Mark to come in, then padded back to his bed, sitting down. 

The older man followed him wordlessly. Sat next to him, leaving space between the two. Ethan folded his hands in his lap. The silence stretched for a while, but Mark let Ethan speak when he was ready. The last thing he wanted to do was push Ethan. 

“Do you ever…” The young man bit his lip. “Do you ever feel like you’ve done something wrong? Messed something up, even though you know you probably didn’t and it’s just you being... scared?” 

Mark watched him carefully, wondering what on earth Ethan thought he’d messed up - all this odd and awkward tension was Mark’s fault. 

“Why do you feel like you’ve messed something up?” Mark asked, pushing his own self-loathing to the side. 

Ethan met his eyes, tears gathered in his lashes, his blue irises shiny like glass. He looked scared, or maybe it was anxiety. Mark wasn’t sure. 

“I...I don’t want to do anything to ruin this,” he said, quiet and vague. 

Mark scooted closer, wanted to reach out, touch the other man, but he didn’t want to spook him. 

“You haven’t ruined anything, Ethan,” Mark assured him, voice genuine. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier - that wasn’t my intention, I just-” He cut himself off before he said anything that might reveal the rush of emotions he felt toward the younger man. “I don’t expect anything from you, okay? I’m sorry if I said or did anything that made you feel like I expected you to-”

Ethan’s sudden laugh cut Mark off, but it didn’t sound humorous. He sounded surprised, shocked, almost angry. 

“You didn’t do anything, Mark, I thought I-” he took a breath. “I thought... I don’t know. I guess I was just being dumb. I…” Ethan trailed off, picking at a loose string on his sweatpants as his mirthless smile fell into a confused frown.

“Is...Is there something else bothering you?” Mark said in a near whisper, leaning over a bit to try and meet the other man’s eyes.   
Ethan looked at him. This close, Mark could see the flecks of green in the young man’s irises, the way his pupils grew, the minute movement of his eyebrows as he watched the other man watch him. The air grew warmer. Or maybe it was just because of their proximity. Mark swallowed. Ethan’s eyes flicked down to Mark’s lips, then back up to his eyes. He smiled sadly. 

“No,” he murmured. “No, I’ll be okay. I think I just need to sleep.” 

\--------------

Ethan was on his side in bed, under the covers and dressed only in his boxers. The lights were off, but he kept the bedside lamp on, the yellow light giving a warm atmosphere to the room. He stared at his phone, still laying face-down on the nightstand. He’d disconnected the charger, but couldn’t bring himself to turn the device on. The alarm clock read 9:13 PM. 

Ethan heaved a sigh, rolled over, and tried to sleep  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!!! comments and kudos are very much appreciated ❤️❤️❤️


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :3c

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im back again <3

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“So, I noticed you haven’t made any posts yet.”

Mark and Ethan were having breakfast the next morning, sitting across from each other and enjoying the comfortable quiet. The tension had eased since a few nights before, and they were both grateful for it. The days passed easily, quickly, both men falling into a rhythm around each other, with each other. Ethan started waking up earlier and earlier, finally finding a workable sleep schedule, and the two had come to the conclusion that for both their sake, it was best if Ethan had his own recording equipment in his room - that way, they could both record and edit in peace. 

Not that Ethan had quite gotten around to really recording anything. Nothing more than quick, stilted gameplay as he tried to again familiarize himself with being on camera and talking freely and being entertaining. It was a start. Mark had told him there was no pressure. It felt nice, finding himself again, and having Mark’s guidance during that process. 

Now, though, Mark’s comment made Ethan’s shoulders tighten up, unsure how to justify why he hadn’t been active on any of his social media yet. Before he could come up with an excuse, Mark continued. 

“Is it...Does it feel scary? Are you worried?” 

The younger man looked down, ashamed to admit that, yes, it did feel scary, and he was worried. Mark seemed to understand, though, which was comforting. 

“I just...what do I even say?” Ethan looked up at the other man, eyes pleading. “What am I supposed to even tell them?” 

Mark set his coffee down, giving Ethan his undivided attention. 

“Whatever you’re comfortable with - you don’t owe them the full story,” he said reassuringly. 

“Don’t I?” Ethan countered, and his expression was pained, voice tight. 

Mark held his eyes for a few moments, until Ethan looked away, then sighed. 

“You don’t,” Mark assured softly. “It’s your business, and it’s your decision what you tell people, not anyone else’s.” 

Ethan stared at the dining table in silence for several beats, picking at his fingernails as he thought. 

“What would you do?” He asked quietly, finally looking back up at the older man, looking almost lost. 

Mark blinked in surprise - he hadn’t exactly expected Ethan to ask for his guidance on this. 

“I’d...I mean, I can’t say for sure what I’d do, because I’ve never been in your situation, but…” He quirked his lips in thought. “I’d probably be honest - at least as much as I thought I needed to be. Tell people I fell on hard times, couldn’t upload...You know, just kinda be vague if I was suddenly returning. There’s always time to explain later, right?”

Ethan perked a bit, that last thought giving him some comfort. He had time - he didn’t need to explain his entire life’s history, he could take it slowly, step by step.

“Yeah...you’re right,” the young man agreed, a small smile forming on his lips again. “Thanks, Mark.”

Mark smiled back at him warmly. They continued eating. 

\-------------

Just a few hours later, while Mark was in the recording room, Ethan had finally finished drafting a tweet that he thought would suffice - for now. 

‘Hey cranky crew, it’s been a while. Just wanted to let you all know I’m okay, and I’ll be uploading again at some point, I don’t know when yet but it’s happening. Thank you for all the support and love, I’ll explain everything when I can. Love you all :)’

He read it again and again, agonized over it, almost deleted it and threw his phone out the window. But he didn’t. He hit send, and that was that. The notifications flooded in immediately. The tears followed soon after.

Maybe this was a mistake. 

\-------------

Mark had just wrapped up a recording and stood from his chair to stretch when the door to the room opened slowly. Ethan was there, tear-tracks tracing down his reddened cheeks. He stepped toward the older man.

“Ethan?” Mark asked just before he was engulfed in a hug, Ethan’s arms around his shoulders and his chin resting in his crook of his neck. His breath was warm as he heaved a sob. Mark, despite his confusion, was quick to pull the young man tightly against himself, bodies pressed together almost too close. “Did you do it?”

The young man nodded his head then sniffled, pulling himself impossibly closer. Mark didn’t hesitate to let his hands rest on the small of his back so he could rub soothingly up and down, placing his chin on Ethan’s small shoulder. He held the younger man silently for a few minutes. 

“I’m proud of you,” Mark mumbled, right into Ethan’s ear because of their proximity. Ethan shivered. 

“Th-thank you,” Ethan whispered, so quiet he was barely audible. Mark could feel Ethan’ small smile against his neck. Could feel the way his lips moved as he struggled to find his next words. “They...everyone is being so...nice. So understanding.” 

“That’s great, Eth,” Mark commented as his thumbs moved in small circles over his lower back. Ethan practically keened into the attention. “What did you tell them? If that’s okay to ask.”

“Yeah, of course,” Ethan was quick to assure him, trying to not let himself be distracted by the way Mark’s fingers massaged against his skin. “I just...said I was okay, and that I apprecaited all the love and support, and that I’d explain everything eventually and start uploading again at some point.”

Mark pulled back finally, wanting to see Ethan’s eyes - they were glassy and a bit puffy, to be expected from all the crying, but they were beautiful. He was beautiful. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Mark said again, making sure Ethan could see the sincerity in his expression this time. 

Ethan realized he still had his arms looped around Mark’s shoulders, Mark’s own hands on the younger man’s hips now. The position was intimate, too close, but Ethan felt like they needed to be closer. He wasn’t sure how to respond to Mark’s sweet words. All he could do was smile up at him, enraptured by the moment now that the majority of the overwhelming emotion had passed. Mark’s expression shifted, intensified in a way he couldn’t quite describe. The air in the room grew thick, and Ethan’s breath hitched as he fully realized just how close he was to the other man. 

Mark’s hands left Ethan’s hips in an instant, like he’d been burned, like the proximity physically hurt him. Ethan followed suit a beat later, letting his hands fall from the other’s shoulders, held uselessly in front of him as they stepped back from one another. 

“Sorry,” Mark whispered, looking him up and down. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Ethan shook his head. No, quite the opposite, he wanted to say, but didn’t. 

“No, it’s okay,” he assured, but Mark was already turning away. In a panic, desperate to not feel that discordant tension from earlier, Ethan grabbed his wrist, pulled him until Mark was facing him again. The look on the older man’s face was one Ethan had never seen - eyes heavy-lidded and pupils blown, lips parted just a bit, cheeks lightly pinked. The young man gulped at the intensity of Mark’s expression, taken aback.

Before Ethan could say anything else, Mark stepped up to him quickly, crowded him against the desk until Ethan’s backside was pressed into the wooden edge, cupped his cheek so he could tilt his head up, and pressed his lips to Ethan’s in a brief touch of skin. Ethan pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide. 

“M-Mark?” He stuttered, confusion painting his features, nervousness blooming in his chest right alongside a growing warmth. He was still holding Mark’s wrist.

“I…Oh my god, I’m sorry, Ethan.” Mark blinked, dazed, then stepped back again, pulling free from . “I’m sorry, I-I misread- I thought- fuck…” 

Mark ran a hand through his hair, let out a shaky breath. 

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot,” he breathed, and the regret in his voice made Ethan’s chest ache. 

“Mark, I-”

“You don’t have to stay here,” Mark cut off the younger man, sounding a bit frenzied. Ethan’s gut twisted, his face falling into something akin to heartbreak. “I-I can get you your own place if you’re uncomfortable- I didn’t mean to- I never wanted you to feel like-” 

Mark shut his mouth when Ethan got close to him again, reached for his hand, held eye contact. 

“Mark,” he began, feeling shy, but determined to not let Mark think he’d done anything Ethan didn’t want him to. “It’s okay…”

“It’s…” Mark trailed off, searching Ethan’s face. The younger man huffed lightly, his nerves alight. 

“I...I liked it…” Ethan admitted, holding on to Mark’s hand. The older man turned to fully face Ethan once more, wearing a look of bewilderment.

“You did?” Mark asked quietly, skeptical. “You don’t- you don’t have to say that just because you’re living in my house, okay? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t want anything if you don’t want it too.” 

“I know,” Ethan assured, a small, bashful smile on his face. “I do want it.” 

“Oh,” the older man breathed, hand hovering just short of touching Ethan, as if asking permission. The younger man took initiative and leaned his cheek against Mark’s open palm, and Mark released the breath he’d been holding. “Can we try that again?”

Ethan giggled quietly, then nodded.   
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff! fluff! fluff!!!

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When Mark’s lips met Ethan’s for the second time, his movements were measured, controlled. He let their lips brush together gently, cupped Ethan’s face in his hand so sweetly, as his other hand wound its way around the younger’s lower back, bringing them impossibly close. Ethan’ hands were braced on Mark’s shoulder’s, nervous in his own movements as he tilted his head just a bit, seeking more contact. Mark was more than happy to oblige, turning his face and parting his lips just enough for the kiss to deepen. Ethan’s breath hitched and he made a small, high noise in the back of his throat. Mark pulled back far enough to let the younger man breathe. When their eyes met, electricity shot down Mark’s spine at the sight of Ethan’s heavy lids and heaving breaths. 

“You are so perfect,” Mark said huskily, his thumb stroking Ethan’s cheekbone as the other man’s eyelids fluttered. Mark kissed him again before he could respond, pressing him back into the desk until Ethan was prompted to hike himself up, sitting on the desk as his legs wrapped loosely around Mark’s. Mark groaned as they were pressed so fully up against each other. He gripped Ethan’s hips. “Tell me if anything’s too much.”

Ethan nodded shakily, but the way his fingers trembled against Mark’s lower back didn’t go unnoticed. The older man's hands were cupping Ethan’s cheeks in an instant, worried eyes searching bright blue. 

“Ethan? Are you okay?” He petted Ethan’s hair as the other let out a shaky breath. The look of utter nervousness and apprehension on the younger’s face broke Mark’s heart. 

“Just-” He swallowed, laughed humorlessly. “Just nervous. I, um- I don’t...I’ve admired you for so long, and I feel like everything has changed so fast, and the last thing I want to do is mess anything up, ‘cause I…”

The younger man's eyes flicked up to meet Mark’s, so full of admiration, adoration, enough to make Mark’s chest squeeze - but the fear still lingered, hung heavy over him like a chandelier held up by a thread of silk. 

“I-I-I like you, Mark,” Ethan continued, looking so vulnerable, so open. “I really...You have no idea how much knowing you has changed me.” 

At that, Ethan brought one of Mark’s hands from his cheek, held it in the space between them in both of his own palms. Mark was stunned into silence for a few beats. 

“Ethan, I…” He squeezed Ethan’s hand in what he hoped came across as reassurance, knowing Ethan’s doubts and anxieties were likely creeping up again. “I like you too- hell, I wouldn’t be kissing you if I didn’t like you.” His laugh was light and brief, an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, and by Ethan’s relieved smile, he knew he’d at least done something right. “But...seriously, if what we’re doing is too much, too soon- I don’t want to put any pressure on you. Especially with everything you’ve been through, and what that means for our dynamic. I could never live with myself if I was somehow taking advantage-” 

“No- Mark, no, no, you’re not at all, okay?” Ethan tightened his legs around Mark’s hips as he felt the other man begin to pull back, unconsciously keeping him in place. “I know what I want - I’m an adult, I can make my own choices, and it’s not like I haven’t been thinking about this since, like, the night we first met…” 

Mark’s expression dampened into one of worry. 

“That was only a few days ago…” he countered quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Ethan’s hand. 

“Dude, I’ve been watching your content for literal years - I knew who you were before we met,” Ethan reminded him with a shy smile, almost wry. 

“That doesn’t mean you actually know me,” the older man protested, though his words had no heat, no bite to them. The weak protests of a man who just wanted to do the right thing. 

“Well, then, you don’t know me either, by your own logic” Ethan said simply. Mark opened his mouth to protest, but Ethan cut him off. “So why are you so sure you like me?” 

Mark’s first response was to kiss the younger man on the cheek, so sweet, holding Ethan’s hands in each of his own.

“Because you’re so undeniably you,” the man murmured, right up against Ethan’s ear, sending a shiver running across his body. Mark pulled back to look him in the eye. “You’re just like I imagined you’d be, if we were to ever meet. I know that probably sounds weird, or maybe even creepy, but…”

“No,” Ethan said immediately. “I get it - I feel the same way, that’s why I'm...I’m sure. I’m sure of what I want.” 

Mark smiled down at him. 

“And what do you want?” He said in a tone that indicated he already knew the answer, but needed to hear it anyway. 

“I want...whatever this is, whatever you want this to be…” Ethan bit his lip, deciding to be bold. “I want you.” 

Mark captured his lips in a firm kiss, then, holding the boy close. 

“I want you, too,” he said after they’d parted again. “I want to be here for you, want to be whatever you need, want to take care of you.” His fingers skimmed up and down Ethan’s sides, just enough pressure to avoid tickling the young man. 

Ethan made a small, choked off noise, but said nothing as he surged forward to pepper kisses across Mark’s face. 

“And I want to do it right,” Mark continued. His arms wound around Ethan’s midsection as he spoke. “I want to take you out on dates, and take it slow, get to know you…” 

Ethan sniffled, and Mark was alarmed to realize he was crying. He didn’t pull back, though, holding the young man close and tucking his own chin into his shoulder as Ethan balled his fists into Mark’s shirt. 

“If you’ll let me, I want to make sure you’re never alone again.” 

Ethan was nodding against his chest, gripping his shirt so tightly his fists turned white. 

“Please,” he breathed, a hiccupping sob wracking his chest. “I want that. Please.” 

Mark nodded in response and they stayed like that for several minutes. Mark could tell Ethan needed it, needed the physical reassurance, the affection, the safety to cry and be vulnerable and know that he’d be okay after it all passed. Ethan’s body was so warm, his feet tucked right behind Mark’s knees, hips and stomach and chest pressed to Mark’s in a way that felt entirely innocent in that moment. Clinging. Mark didn’t mind a single bit - in fact, he relished the close contact. After Ethan’s breathing evened out and no fresh tears fell, Mark nuzzled his neck and breathed his scent in deep. Ethan shivered. 

“Maybe it’s bad timing, or maybe it’s perfect timing,” Mark began, voice low and playful. “But I wanted to take you out and get you some new clothes. I know you like my hoodies, but you should probably have some of your own too.”

Ethan laughed breathily. 

“I don’t have any money,” he reminded the older man, though he was well aware Mark knew this. 

“I didn’t expect you to,” Mark assured. “I’ll cover everything - don’t even worry about it.”

Ethan swallowed, protests on the tip of his tongue, which Mark must have sensed. He pulled back to look down at the younger man, an expression on his face that left no room for arguments. 

“I mean that, Eth. Don’t worry about the money. I’ve got you.”

At a loss for anything to say that might sway Mark away from spending money on him, Ethan swallowed, nodded. 

“Thank you,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Mark’s cheek. 

The older man smiled.   
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boy are gonna go on a shopping date *pouty emoji* thank you for reading!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you liked pls leave comments and kudos, they really help me write faster and be more motivated! and don’t forget to subscribe either to my profile or the work to keep track of updates! ❤️


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